The Gates of Death- A Chaotic Pokemon World
by Brandonrocs
Summary: What happens when you mix wild Pokemon, teenagers, Gods, mistakes, broken promises and lies? Only time will tell. AU Pokemon World
1. Note

This is a recursive fan fiction of Revenantzero's story _Pokémon: Chaotic World_. I recommend giving that a read. (For those that do not know, recursive fan fiction is, basically, fan fiction of a fan fiction.)

A few minor details have been changed between Revanantzero's and my stories. These will be noticed in story (Hence the recommendation of reading _Pokémon: Chaotic World_ first. Just to give a basic understanding.)

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN POKÉMON  
I am not affiliated with Pokémon co. Or Nintendo, nor is this story.

There may be mention of 'Fakemon'. If I do mention a non-canon Pokémon, I wil mention the creator of said Pokémon. I doubt I will use 'Fakemon', but this is just covering my ass just in case.

Enjoy! (Updates are irregular. I apologise for any inconvenience.)


	2. Chapter One- In the Beginning

"Good morning, I am your esteemed Mayor, George Webster, and welcome to the four hundredth Selection Day." A large, pale skinned balding man stood on a stage in front of a courtyard filled with all of the eighteen year olds in the Ofain City state. Every year, for four hundred years, the eighteen year olds have had to stand in front of the current Mayor to find out if they will continue living as Civilians, with civilian jobs, civilian lives and civilian worries, or if they'll become Trainers and risk their lives everyday protecting the Civilians from the monsters known as Pokémon.

It hadn't always been this way. No, four centuries ago humans had lived in harmony with Pokémon, and being a Trainer was all every twelve to eighteen year old thought about. But that all changed when a maleficent organisation at the time, called Team Rocket, captured a legendary Pokémon. This angered the other Legendary Pokémon, and such the Cataclysm was born. Men, Women, Children and tame Pokémon were slaughtered in the thousands by wild Pokémon, who had been infected by the Legendaries' anger. Civilisation went into melt down. Within the first few hours of the Cataclysm, small towns and villages were completely wiped out from existence. Any survivors of an attack fled to larger towns, and then from larger towns to Cities. Cities were overrun with refugees, and riots and fights broke out. Underground shelters were stockpiled with food, and people fought over space to hide and wait out the Cataclysm. Humanity had never seen a darker day. When all hope seemed lost, the wild Pokémon stopped attacking and returned to the wilderness. It was soon discovered, however, that they would still attack any Human in sight. Cities built giant walls around their boundaries, and it was decided each city would govern themselves and become City states. All farming was done inside the City walls. Any resources required from outside the walls would be collected carefully and under the protection of trainers. And no longer was the role of a Trainer wanted. Humans feared Pokémon. Because no child wanted to become a Trainer, it was decided that every year, a certain amount of teenagers of the age of eighteen would be involuntarily selected to become trainers. The amount of Selectees changed each year, based upon the needs of the City state. There was no distinction between class or birth; all eighteen year olds were eligible.

Selection Day, as it had been called, was held on the last day of the year. This was to allow all eligible candidates were of the age of eighteen before being selected. That was fine for most people, it gave them several months to come to terms with the fact that their life as they know it could end. Alas, I had no such time. Selection Day and my birthday landed on the same day. If I had been born a few hours later I would have had twelve hours to prepare myself, but no, this was how the dice had landed.

"This year, seven of you will be selected to become trainers." A collective gasp was heard throughout the courtyard. Seven. The last time it had been higher than five was two decades ago, and that had been six. I looked around and was seeing the same reaction on my fellow eighteen year olds; we were all shocked. The chances of us being selected had increased.

"We shall begin this Selection day by asking are there any Volunteers?" No one in their right mind would volunteer, but we all hoped that someone would as this would bring our chance of selection down. "I volunteer!" The shout echoed throughout the courtyard. Mayor Webster looked just as surprised and startled as everyone else. They all turned to source of the voice. They all turned to me. I stood alone with my hand in the air. "I volunteer!" I said again.

"I, ah, uhm..." Mayor Webster coughed, "Would our volunteer please come up to the stage?" I walked forward towards the stage. The crowd parted, all staring at me. My stomach flipped. _Why did I do that?!_ I screamed internally. I eventually made my way up onto the stage. Standing next to Mayor Webster was the Ofain Gym Leader, leader of the Pokémon Trainers, Jack Irwin. Leader Irwin shook my hand and asked for my name. I quietly mumbled my name, all gusto and bravery gone. Irwin went to Mayor Webster and whispered my name. "Can we have a round of applause for our volunteer, Chester Joyhaven!" Slowly the crowd clapped. Not in congratulations for my volunteering, but in joy that their chances had decreased. Mayor quieted the crowd down with a small wave of his hand. "Let us now begin the selection." He nodded to a man in a suit sitting in front of a large computer. The suited man pressed a button and the names of all the eighteen year olds began to flicker across the stages screen. I watched as more and more names flicked through, too fast for me to read, until six names froze in place. A few gasps and cries of anguish went up in the crowd. "Could the following six please make their way to the stage: Benjamin Applegate, Hannah Bridgetaint, Harold Baxter, Marcus Betwited, Rebecca De'Price, and Samantha Littlereed. Thank you." Slowly the six Selectees made their way up on stage. "A big round of applause for the seven selectees of this year, the four hundredth year." The crowd clapped, all of them sighing with relief and smiling. They were not selected. Tonight they would go home and celebrate with their friends and families. Tomorrow they begin their lives as civilians, working in their districts industry. Tonight, seven families will shut their doors and close their blinds, and mourn the possible loss of a child.

I looked at the other selectees, and more specifically, at the number on their clothing. All civilians were required by law to wear the number of their district on their clothing. I was from District Eleven, the district closest to the Trainer's District. We worked with the Pokémon that were farmed within the City. I had not, however, been allowed near the farms or greenhouses. If I had not been selected, I would have begun working with the Tauros, farmed for their meat, like my father. My mother worked in the Oddish Greenhouses. District Eleven was, however important our job was, classified as a "Low Class" district.

As I looked at the other's numbers I was surprised to find the range. Marcus Betwited, tall, muscular, blond haired and well dressed, was from District One. District One was where all the politicians and the richest of civilians lived; a "High Class" district. Benjamin Applegate, short, skinny, black haired and green spectacled was from District Three; District of Technology. This was where all of our electricity came from, as well as the designs for all of the electronics and appliances were made; a "Middle Class" district. Rebecca De'Price, short, olive skinned, mid-weight, long brown haired and green eyed was from District Four; The District of Merchants. District Four was the shopping district, it was where everything was bought and the owners of the shops lived above their stores; another "Middle Class" district. Samantha Littlereed, short, skinny, pale, blond haired and wide eyed, was from District Five; The District of medicine. The Hospital and the doctors school was located there; another "Middle Class" district.

Hannah Bridgetaint, tall, skinny, pale skinned and orange haired was from District Seven; her district braved the wilds. They were the Miners and Lumberjacks. Builders also lived in District Seven; a fourth "Middle Class" district. The last selectee, Harold Baxter, short, brown haired and dirty, was from District Nine; The Factories. District nine produced the electronics that District Three designed; another "Low Class" district. This year was dominated by "Middle Class" selectees. Most years the selectees were from Districts Eight through to Eleven, the "Low Class" districts with a few selectees from Districts Three to Seven, the "Middle Class". This was not due to any rigging, but by simple logistics; the poorer districts had a higher population. As I looked at the other selectees, and they looked at me and each other, I thought this year was going to be like any other year for Ofain.

Boy how wrong I was.


End file.
